


We're taking suggestions from the audience.

by Odyle



Category: Selfie (TV)
Genre: Eating Disorders, F/M, Improv
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 05:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2838938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odyle/pseuds/Odyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eliza saves the day from improvisational comedy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're taking suggestions from the audience.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lunch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunch/gifts).



> Warning: there is discussion of an eating disorder in passing.

Henry would have suspected that Eliza was punishing him if she didn't seem to be suffering just as much as he. There was great temptation to leave, but with only ten people in the audience, their exit would have been conspicuous. Several of the other terrified patrons had attempted it, only to be heckled by the players. They clung to each other for strength. 

"Can we get a name of a grocery store?" a player asked. 

The audience was silent. No one wanted to draw any attention to themselves, lest they be pulled into a scene. A young man in one of the front rows had been pulled into a scene earlier. Several of the players sat on him over the course of a sketch. He'd been visibly upset when he returned to his seat.

"This is hell," Henry whispered. 

"The gentleman in the gray suit. You have a suggestion?" the player asked. 

"Whole Foods," Eliza called. 

"Thank you. What about a pattern you wouldn't see on a seal?" 

"What time is it?" Eliza whispered. 

"8:35. We've got another twenty-five minutes of this." 

After abusing the audience for a few more minutes, the players started a sketch about a paisley-patterned seal shopping at Whole Foods for an air mattress.

" _This_ is hell," Eliza whispered. "I'm so sorry." 

"You couldn't have known," he whispered back. "Just promise me that if you get the chance, you'll run." 

"I'm going to run for it. I'm going to pretend to vomit, then I'm going to run out. Follow me," Eliza whispered. 

"What?" 

She doubled over, making conspicuous and disturbingly realistic vomiting sounds. When she'd finished, she paused to wipe the corners of her mouth. Eliza rose and marched out of the theater. It took Henry a moment to follow her. The action on the floor had stopped. Everyone was staring back at him. 

"Food poisoning," Henry announced, before turning and hurrying to find Eliza. 

She was standing out front of the strip mall storefront that housed the improv theater from hell. Her concentration was on instagraming the intricate pattern of her manicure. 

"I'm sort of frightened to ask where you learned that." 

"Eighth grade gym class. I used to use it to get out of having to go," Eliza said, dropping her phone into her purse. "The other girls used to tease me, so I'd pretend to vomit while everyone was changing. Coach Krebelski would come in, hear me gagging, and send me to the counselor. Going to the guidance counselor to talk about an eating disorder I didn't have was so much easier than letting those bitches tease me for an hour. It's good to know I've still got it." 

"That's depressing Eliza."

She shrugged. 

They got back in his car and the debate for what to do next began again. Eliza wanted to go to a bar. Henry wanted to go to a local modern art gallery that was having an installation of lawn chairs. 

("If you want to see lawn chairs, we can go to Walmart," Eliza said. 

"These are special lawn chairs," Henry insisted.)

They ended up at his house watching _Absolutely Fabulous_ and splitting a pint of lactose-free ice cream. When the ice cream was done, she kicked off her heels and curled up on the couch next to him, leaning against him and making an unnecessary amount of body contact. Henry didn't notice for several episodes. Nor could he say when he'd put his arm around her, drawing her closer. 

She smelled wonderful. Whatever her perfume was, it would always remind him of her.

It was a slippery slope. At the bottom was waking up in bed with her, which was exactly what happened.


End file.
